CHRISTMAS

CHRISTMAS

drop-capA boywas born at Bethlehemthat knew the haunts of Galilee.He wandered on Mount Lebanon,and learned to love each forest tree.But I was born at Marlborough,and love the homely faces there;and for all other men besides’tis little love I have to spare.I should not mind to die for them,my own dear downs, my comrades true.But that great heart of Bethlehem,he died for men he never knew.And yet, I think, at Golgotha,as Jesus’ eyes were closed in death,they saw with love most passionatethe village street at Nazareth.

drop-capA boywas born at Bethlehemthat knew the haunts of Galilee.He wandered on Mount Lebanon,and learned to love each forest tree.But I was born at Marlborough,and love the homely faces there;and for all other men besides’tis little love I have to spare.I should not mind to die for them,my own dear downs, my comrades true.But that great heart of Bethlehem,he died for men he never knew.And yet, I think, at Golgotha,as Jesus’ eyes were closed in death,they saw with love most passionatethe village street at Nazareth.

drop-capA boywas born at Bethlehemthat knew the haunts of Galilee.He wandered on Mount Lebanon,and learned to love each forest tree.

drop-cap

A boywas born at Bethlehem

that knew the haunts of Galilee.

He wandered on Mount Lebanon,

and learned to love each forest tree.

But I was born at Marlborough,and love the homely faces there;and for all other men besides’tis little love I have to spare.

But I was born at Marlborough,

and love the homely faces there;

and for all other men besides

’tis little love I have to spare.

I should not mind to die for them,my own dear downs, my comrades true.But that great heart of Bethlehem,he died for men he never knew.

I should not mind to die for them,

my own dear downs, my comrades true.

But that great heart of Bethlehem,

he died for men he never knew.

And yet, I think, at Golgotha,as Jesus’ eyes were closed in death,they saw with love most passionatethe village street at Nazareth.

And yet, I think, at Golgotha,

as Jesus’ eyes were closed in death,

they saw with love most passionate

the village street at Nazareth.

E. Hilton Young


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